Getting over it
by purplish-panda
Summary: Warnings-attempted suicide and a choppy writing style. Not a deathfic. HarryRonHermione friendship, with allusions to cheating, but no graphicness there. Rated M for safety regarding swearing and theme.


A/N: Decided to quickly revise this whilst I was on a 5 minute break from revision x_x It's not much different, just better formatting so it's not so hard to read. Sorry if there are still some grammar mistakes or anything, I haven't really read it through very properly.

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Harry woke abruptly from a horrific nightmare for the fourth time that night, sweating and panting, looking around wildly for the terrible images from his dreams. After a moment he calmed down slightly, and pulled on his glasses from the bedside table. His eyes sought out the clock on the wall. Three forty-five. He sighed and dragged himself out of bed. He was tired, so tired, but he'd had enough for one night.

He went to the bathroom, ran a sink full of cold water, and plunged his head into it, submerging it fully. He held it there for as long as he could, then pulled his head out. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and sighed yet again. God, he looked a mess. His hair wet and clinging to his forehead, his eyes wide and still slightly fearful from the memories of his dreams. The dark bags under his eyes. The sharp cheekbones jutting out from his lack of appetite nowadays.

He shook his head slightly to clear it and then focussed on changing his appearance with his usual glamour, covering up his dramatic weight loss and his evident lack of sleep. He then washed and dressed and crept out the door quietly, shutting it gently behind him.

Ron and Hermione were staying for the weekend, the first time he'd seen them for a couple of months. He'd meant to sit them down and talk to them when they came, he really had, but then they'd arrived and they'd looked so _happy_ and _so perfect_, that he just couldn't do it.

So they had chattered about how Teddy was, and how Ron's new job was going, and how Draco Malfoy had got together with Blaise Zabini, you remember him Harry, wasn't that a surprise, always thought he was straight as a hatpin, especially what with the way Pansy Parkinson used to carry on with him, but it just goes to show doesn't it, and Quidditch, and how Hermione had just won a huge case for werewolf rights, which in turn lead to Remus, which led to Sirius, which led to Harry calling an abrupt halt to _that_ conversation with talk of how he'd seen George the other day, not to talk to though, and how was the joke shop doing?

And then they'd all gone to bed and Harry felt so _mean_ for wishing that they'd bloody well go away, and that they had no _right _to be so fucking perky when he felt like shit, and not sure whether to be so, _so _fucking disappointed that they hadn't even noticed that something was off with him, and yet not being sure that he actually _wanted_ them to notice, because after all, that was selfish, wasn't it, just because _he c_ouldn't get his life together and work out how the bloody hell he was supposed to life like this, it didn't mean they had to flounder around like idiots too, did it?

And so that was how he'd got to be walking through the corridors of Hogwarts at 4 o'clock in the bloody morning for the fourth time that week, and it was only Thursday. He settled down in his usual spot by the lake and tried to clear his mind, like Snape always used to be banging on about him doing, Snape that he'd got _killed_, just like Remus and Cedric and Tonks and Colin and his parents and Dumbledore and Fred and _Sirius_, Sirius, _Sirius_, gone because of his reckless _stupidity_, _gone!_

Somehow, Harry had ended up a good way from the edge of the lake, up to his chin in water, freezing cold, so, so cold, but maybe it was for the best. Everyone could move on and forget about him, and the whole thing with Voldemort could be forgotten, the last great reminder of everyone he'd got killed gone. And he let his head slip underwater just as he heard a high-pitched scream. He didn't hear the splash as someone jumped into the water and swam out to where he was drowning peacefully, barely aware of his surroundings.

And then he was caught in strong arms and was vaguely aware of being carried out of the water, a soft, deep voice murmuring desperately to him. He wondered fleetingly if this was dying, and how, if it was, it was quite nice actually. And then he slipped out of consciousness completely.

The next time he woke up he was in the Hospital Wing with Hermione and Ron staring anxiously at him, Hermione huddled up in Ron's embrace. As soon as his eyes fluttered open Hermione sprung on him, flinging her arms around him and bursting into tears, and then Ron's arms joined hers and his voice shouted for Madame Pomfrey. After a bit of fussing and many worried looks exchanged between Madame Pomfrey and Hermione and Ron, Harry was finally allowed to go back to his chambers, as long as he promised to stay with Hermione and Ron, and _talk_ to us this time, for Merlin's sake, Harry.

Then they were sitting on his armchairs, and they were asking him why over and over again, and Harry's heart nearly broke when Ron said in an utterly bewildered voice "but I don't_ understand_ Harry, why didn't you just come to us?" And then he was crying, and he felt utterly stupid and so, so very guilty, and the hot tears were sliding down his cheeks but he couldn't stop them coming, not even when Hermione said "oh _Harry_" in that anguished tone, and her and Ron snuggled up to him on either side, arms around him, Hermione's face buried in his shoulder.

And then he was talking, telling them how he was so, _so _sorry, and it was just Sirius, and it was all his fault, and all the others, and _God_ he was so, so sorry Ron about Fred, and how if he could, he'd go back and die instead of Fred, and he was so sorry that he couldn't, he really was, and then how Ginny had cheated on him with Dean and Seamus, and he could see _why_, because he was a murderer, and really, who _would_ want to be with a murderer, but it had still hurt, _hurt_, so so much, and how he couldn't understand how either of them could bear to touch him, he was so goddamned fucking _disgusting_, and about the nightmares, and never being hungry, and using a glamour to trick everyone, and he was honestly, so, so sorry, and he'd do it properly next time, he promised them.

At which point Hermione, previously shocked into silence by his admissions, was shocked into action, taking his face in her small hands, looking him squarely in the eyes, and declaring that he was under _no _circumstances going to do it properly next time, because there _wouldn't be_ a next time, and if he dared try again, she would kill him herself. And then said that he was coming home with them, and don't you dare even think about arguing, Harry James Potter.

And then she took off the glamour, and Ron gasped at how much of a mess he was. And then Hermione and Ron explained to him, forcefully, that none of it was his fault, it was a war, and those things happened in a war. And that they knew Ginny had fucked him over, and they were really, really angry with her about doing it, as there was no justification for it, and he wasn't a murderer, he had killed Voldemort out of nothing less than necessity and nothing more than self defence, and if Harry hadn't done it they'd all be dead at best by now. And Harry found himself beginning to believe them, and then they all went to bed, together, entwined together just like they had sometimes in the tent when they were looking for horcruces, and Harry discovered that his nightmares were much better with them there.

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A/N: Happy Christmas :P


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